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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23725531">And we heard their bitter screams (for the devil lost his prey)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/stereden/pseuds/stereden'>stereden</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Stereden's One Piece AU's [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ace isn't born yet but he is definitely present and viable so, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Baterilla is its own warning, Baterilla was TERRIBLE and the Marines are horrible people okay, Competent!Buggy, Gen, Off-Screen Murder, Portgas D. Rouge is a pirate, Roger was an idiot, Rouge Lives, Slow To Update, Sporadic Updates, Warning: very dark begining, What if Buggy and Shanks had reached Baterilla before Garp?, because this story starts in Baterilla, but they will be, competent!Shanks, eventually, just after the marines left, like even more than my usual dose of angst, lots and lots of angst, the Roger pirates are idiots too, the kids are not alright, the kids deserved better, they all love him anyway but he was an idiot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:55:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,588</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23725531</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/stereden/pseuds/stereden</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rouge takes a deep breath.</p>
<p>“Okay. It's late and we're all exhausted. We'll talk more tomorrow. For now, I want you two to get some food into your stomach while I hunt down the medical kit. Once I'm done patching you up to my satisfaction, there's a bathroom and a guest room waiting for you.”</p>
<p>There's still wariness in their eyes, their too old eyes for such young bodies, and Rouge bites back a snarl at the idea of what might have happened to those kids to give them eyes like this.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akagami no Shanks | Red-Haired Shanks &amp; Buggy, Akagami no Shanks | Red-Haired Shanks &amp; Portgas D. Ace, Buggy &amp; Portgas D. Ace, Buggy &amp; Portgas D. Rouge, Gol D. Roger &amp; Portgas D. Rouge, Portgas D. Ace &amp; Portgas D. Rouge, Portgas D. Rouge &amp; the Blackjack Pirates, Shanks &amp; Portgas D. Rouge</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Stereden's One Piece AU's [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1708903</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>650</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>And we heard their bitter screams (for the devil lost his prey)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/PieWritesFics/gifts">PieWritesFics</a>.</li>


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23529487">Salvation if we make it (and our souls if we get caught)</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/PieWritesFics/pseuds/PieWritesFics">PieWritesFics</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Had this hiding in my WIP folder for a while now but then PieWritesFic gifted me with the awesomeness that is "Salvation if we make it (and our souls if we get caught)" (please please please go check it out if you haven't yet) and I was reminded that I had this, and since I had decided to post some of my less active WIP during this quarantine in order to keep my mind off of things... well, here you go!</p>
<p>WARNING: This story starts in Baterilla shortly after the Marines left, so there is mention of children's deaths/state-sanctioned murders. The chapter opens with Rouge preparing the body of her godson for his funeral. It's not graphic, but it is the harsh reality of what had happened to the people of Baterilla. I would have given a warning no matter what, but given the current situation I feel it's even more important to point it out.</p>
<p>Feel free to skip to the next line break if you do not want to read that scene -  you will not lose anything plot-wise.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Other warnings: FEELS (it's me, so that's a given by now), ANGST (same comment), enumeration of injuries (but no graphic depictions), one very pissed off Portgas D. Rouge, one very worried Portgas D. Rouge, two very wary boys, two very confused boys, more angst, more feels. Probably best if you keep a box of tissues on hand!</p>
<p>As mentioned above, this is an old WIP that isn't very active. This means that updates will be sporadic and depend on when my muse decides to cooperate - my main focus is and will remain We Still Stand Proud.</p>
<p>I'll also be posting some of my other old WIP's in the coming days/weeks to break off the monotony of this quarantine (and hopefully kick my muse into being slightly more cooperative xD)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Once we charged into that harbor</em>
  <br/>
  <em>The Dutchman heaved away</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And we heard their bitter screams</em>
  <br/>
  <em>For the devil lost his prey</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>(The Flying Dutchman - The Jolly Rogers)</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>There's a too small body that needs to be washed and dressed, and his mother can't do it because she's lying on another bed and his father is in no state to do so.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So she does. She cleans him carefully, dresses him in clothes his weeping grandmother had pressed into her hands and does her best to hide the blue tinge on his lips, the one that shows that he was smothered in his sleep by the ones who were supposed to <em>protect</em> him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fucking marines!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So scared of one man that the idea that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>might </span>
  </em>
  <span>have left a child behind has them slaughtering </span>
  <em>
    <span>toddlers</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How can they live with that?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(How is <em>she</em> living with that, with the fact that this is happening because of her, because of her and Roger, because she decided to love him, because she decided to bring him to this island that had once been her home?)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(With the fact that those children are dead because the marines are looking for her child? With the fact that her childhood best friend is lying dead on a bed in a hospital that has become a giant morgue, with the fact that she is preparing her godson's body for his funeral?)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(With the fact that she was too late to stop it, because her house is up in the mountains and she had taken to the woods and hidden for weeks when she had seen the marines arrive, and hadn’t known what had happened until they left and she had finally dared to go down to the village?)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(With the fact that she might have been able to stop them if she had known, if she had dared to step out and unleash hell upon them, if she had had her crew at her back and no child to protect <strike>if if if</strike>)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <strike>
    <span>(How?)</span>
  </strike>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rouge grits her teeth and wipes her tears with an angry hand, and then she goes back to work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rose and Nari aren’t the only ones who need to be buried. And the least she can do is make sure the ones who died because of her get a decent burial.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>She hangs back during the funeral, because this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>her fault</span>
  </em>
  <span>, her fault Rose and Nari and all the others have died, and while part of her rages and wants to burn the Marine to the ground, part of her just feels relieved that they didn't catch her. That her child is still growing inside her stomach, that she was able to slow their growth with her haki enough that no one can tell that she is pregnant, that they haven't managed to take that from her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The cemetery overlooks the sea, and when everyone else has left, when Hiro has been dragged away from his wife and son's graves by his stone faced father, she walks to the stone herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm sorry”, she whispers, because it's all she can do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sits down in front of the too small stone with the two names, because there isn't enough stone for individual slates anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn't think they would go that far, that they would…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She clenches her fists, desperately wishing for her staff and her crew and the power to turn back time and unleash hell on the marines who slaughtered her grandmother's people.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>(Rouge had been born on a ship, of merchant parents who had loved the sea and each other, but she had grown up here, on this island, until she was deemed old enough to join them, until their ship had sunk and she had been taken in by a pirate crew and then started her own.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(She hadn't lived there in fifteen years until she had decided to give Roger a chance.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(And she came back and brought misfortune upon the island and she hates herself for it )</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>There's a shiver on her neck, and she stiffens, focuses her observation haki on her surroundings. It's late, and the villagers have all left for the wakes, there shouldn't be anyone wandering around and - there. At the other end of the row, where the newest graves started.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There's two of them, gangly and awkward in a way that spoke of teenagers still trying to adjust to their growing bodies, huddled close together. It's too dark for her to see what they look like, but their haki is familiar in a way they shouldn't be, because she's had the opportunity to get a feel for all of the island's remaining population in the past few days and knows for sure that these two don't belong here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <strike>
    <span>(She doesn't, either)</span>
  </strike>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But they are familiar, and Rouge frowns as she watches them walk from grave to grave, shoulders hunched, stopping at each one to bow and light a stick of incense.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hasn’t been mingling much, but Rose’s grandmother had mentioned something, hadn’t she, about two kids showing up a couple of days ago and helping with the digging? Blanche had said they’d come from the other side of the island, where the other village is, bringing their showels with them and asking where to dig, not saying anything else, just digging wherever they were pointed at?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She inhales, focuses her haki even more. Sensing emotions has never been her strong suit, she is much better at sensing </span>
  <em>
    <span>intentions</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sheer </span>
  <em>
    <span>guilt</span>
  </em>
  <span> that is dripping from the two boys has her <em>reeling</em>, especially compounded with the all-encompassing </span>
  <em>
    <span>grief</span>
  </em>
  <span> emanating from them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She is on her feet before she realises it, and striding towards them even as the smaller of the boys jerks his head up and moves to stand in front of the other, knives springing up between his fingers, </span>
  <em>
    <span>familiar knives where had she seen them before -</span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>She grabs the one headed for her face with haki covered fingers and <em>freezes</em>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looks from the blade <strike><em>familiar so familiar of course it's familiar it's HIS </em></strike>in her hand to the two boys in front of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Roger's apprentices?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The flinch is </span>
  <em>
    <span>visible</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What. The. Hell.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>She crosses the remaining distance before the kids (because they are just kids, fuck, what are they doing here all by themselves, where are the rest of the Rogers?) can react.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Captain Rouge?!” The younger of the two, Buggy if she remembers correctly from the few times she's met him and all the times Roger bragged about him, yelps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What in Davy Jones’ name are the two of you doing here?” She hisses, grabbing them by the arms and forcing them to walk with her. “Are you trying to get yourselves killed? This place was </span>
  <em>
    <span>teeming </span>
  </em>
  <span>with marines not five days ago!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The taller one, Shanks, the swordsman if her memory is true, tries to talk but Rouge shushes him before he can.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last thing they need is to bring more attention upon themselves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boys seem to understand that, and they go completely silent even though Rouge's mind is whirling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>These are Roger's boys, the ones he took in and raised as his own, the ones he was so proud of,<strike> the ones she had felt kind of guilty for taking him away from</strike>, the ones he had beamed about and said that they would make great brothers for their child.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How old were they now, thirteen? Fourteen maybe? Definitely not that much older, and definitely not old enough to be out at sea on their own, and yet…</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>She takes a better look at them as they walk, the moonlight allowing her to see what the darkness of the cemetery had hidden from her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boys look </span>
  <em>
    <span>wretched.</span>
  </em>
  <span> There's dark bags under their eyes, a certain gauntness to their cheeks that speaks of too little food and their arms are too thin underneath her hands. Their clothes are nearly worn through, for all that they have obviously done their bests to mend them, and there's hints of dirty bandages poking from underneath them. Shanks moves gingerly, in a way that Rouge is all too familiar with and can only mean broken ribs, and Buggy's gloves, dirty and torn, betray the splint on his left hand's fingers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Most worrying of all is the way they allow themselves to be led to an unknown location with someone they can't be sure is an ally, with no protest or resistance. Buggy is shaking slightly and Shanks feels ready to bolt and yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And <em>yet</em>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite their earlier panic when they recognised her, neither of them is so much as </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span> to get away from her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If it weren't for Buggy's defence of Shanks earlier, and the older boy's attempt to speak, she would be wondering if they had been replaced by puppets. They seem… weary, resigned to their fates is the only thing that comes to mind and it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s only been a handful of months since Roger’s execution.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What in Davy Jones’ name had happened to them?</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>They're nearing her house now (</span>
  <em>
    <span>hers-and-Rogers no more</span>
  </em>
  <span>), and Rouge needs to figure out what is going on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then she turns on the light after pushing the kids inside and changes her plans.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because if they had looked bad in the moonlight, it's even worse in the bright light of her hallway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They look dead on their feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Scratch that, Rouge thinks, taking in the dirt under their fingernails, the callouses she has become too familiar with on their hands, characteristic of those who had been digging graves day and night to keep up with the unwavering death toll.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They look like they should be in a grave themselves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>Fuck it</em>, she thinks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Explanations can wait.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead she herds them in the kitchen and points at the two chairs by the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They obey without a word, and Rouge resists the urge to grit her teeth as she busies herself at the stove.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She has some soup leftover from yesterday, and there’s bread in the box. It’s not much, but she hadn’t planned on cooking tonight and no one in the village has been in any state to open the market these past few weeks. She has some vegetables in the garden that should be about ready, and she will have to check the traps tomorrow morning to get some meat into those kids, but she should be able to make do for now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’re so </span>
  <em>
    <span>thin</span>
  </em>
  <span>, their cheeks starting to sink in, and there’s the faint smell of alcohol coming from them, and they’re so </span>
  <em>
    <span>young</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but alcohol makes you feel less hungry, and it keeps the nightmares at bay, and you’re never too young for either of these.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eat. It's not poisoned,” she adds when they hesitate, and it's that hesitation that gives her a hint of what might have happened to them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The children's disheveled state, their injuries, the sheer </span>
  <em>
    <span>exhaustion</span>
  </em>
  <span> in their haki…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If the Marines are so desperate to rid the world of Roger's legacy that they would slaughter innocent women and children… what would they do if they got their hands on the Pirate King's Apprentices, his heirs in all but blood?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where the hell are Silvers and the others?” She snaps, because these two should <em>not</em> have been left alone, Roger had been so sure that Rayleigh and the rest would keep an eye on them until they were ready to sail on their own, it was one of the only reasons he hadn’t felt more guilty about leaving them behind, but here they are, alone and hurt and scared and there is no way that the two kids in front of her were ready to leave the others. No fucking way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Either something happened to the rest of the crew, which would </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> have made the news, or...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The simultaneous flinch from both boys makes her want to break something. Preferably Rayleigh's face.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>There had been nothing about the capture of any Roger Kaizoku in the newspapers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Option two it is.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Buggy curls up on himself, face closed off tighter than a treasure chest, and for once it is Shanks who answers, his hands still tight on Buggy's shoulders. He's shaking, they both are, and Rouge is </span>
  <em>
    <span>furious</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don't… Rayleigh-san said something about Sabaody and Crocus kept talking about Laboon and the others all had places they wanted to go but they didn't say where and then they dropped us off somewhere and left and…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They did what?! Did they give you any means to contact them? A denden number, a vivre card, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shanks shakes his head. He's trying to stay stoic, to maintain a brave face, they both are, but fuck, they're just </span>
  <em>
    <span>kid</span>
  </em>
  <span>s and the adults who should have kept them safe have abandoned them without a second glance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What the <em>hell</em> is wrong with Roger's crew?!</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Rouge takes a deep breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. It's late and we're all exhausted. We'll talk more tomorrow. For now, I want you two to get some food into your stomach while I hunt down the medical kit. Once I'm done patching you up to my satisfaction, there's a bathroom and a guest room waiting for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There's still wariness in their eyes, their too old eyes for such young bodies, and Rouge bites back a snarl at the idea of what might have happened to those kids to give them eyes like this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(She knows some of it happened while Roger was still sailing with them, because he told her, late one night, of the guilt he felt for what they went through as part of his crew, of Edd War and Shiki and bloody battlefields before reaching the double digits.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(But she knows he at least tried to keep them safe even if he couldn't keep away from danger himself, knows that he at least regrets what he put them through.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(She had still torn him a new one, and told him in no uncertain terms that this would </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> be how their child would grow up.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(</span>
  <em>
    <span>Over her dead body)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She exhales.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Davy Jones by my witness, you are guests upon my ship and no harm shall come to you under my flag,” she speaks softly, watching as their shoulders relax minutely as they register the traditional wording. Her ship is far away, as is her crew, and so are theirs, but they are pirates under the dominion of Davy Jones whether their feets are on the ground or over the waves, and her word is just as binding here as it would be on the Black Maria.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>It still takes her nearly half an hour to convince the boys to let her have a look at their injuries, and it makes her want to kill someone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shanks’ ribs are definitely broken - four of them for sure, with a fifth one a maybe and at least three bruised ones. How the boy managed to keep it together this long is a mystery, the resolution of which will more than likely make her want to kill even more people. That he dug graves despite the pain he is undoubtedly in is nearly unbelievable, except for the fact that this is one of Roger's kids and that her late husband definitely knew how to pick them. Shanks may not be Roger's biological son, but that stubbornness is definitely something they share.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The redhead also has a swollen knee that had been splinted surprisingly neatly. The bruises are ugly, but the sprain is already healing so she lets it be for now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She thins her lips at the numerous scars across the boy's limbs, in various states of healing, at the bruises that cover him from head to toe under his clothes, and has to count to ten, once, twice, thrice before she can be sure she's not about to rush out to kill whoever did this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buggy's fingers are definitely broken, and she doesn't like the way he barely even winces when he takes his glove off. That kind of pain tolerance (or, at least, that kind of mask hiding it) is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> something a fourteen years old should have.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She takes his hand in hers carefully, delicately, handling it like she would one of the miniatures Juu likes to build in his spare time, and inspects the damage. Judging from the fading bruises and the way the bones had broken… someone had stomped on the kid's fingers. Hard. And deliberately. Especially considering that this is the kid who can </span>
  <em>
    <span>literally</span>
  </em>
  <span> split into pieces, which means that there must have been seastone involved in order to actually manage to break his bones.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Torture. These kids had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>tortured</span>
  </em>
  <span> and their crew had </span>
  <em>
    <span>abandoned</span>
  </em>
  <span> them and Rouge really wants to kill someone right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don't scare the kiddies,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she reminds herself even as her haki rises in outrage and the kid in front of her pales and takes a step back, the other brat immediately moving to his side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Deep breaths. Once. Twice. Thrice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” she says. “I just really want to get my hands on whoever did this. See how they like it when I crush their fingers!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He's dead,” Shanks informs her, voice toneless. Then, “I cut his hands off. And his feet. And his </span>
  <em>
    <span>head</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Good,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Rouge snarls, and her tone is dark and vicious even as she gently replaces the makeshift splints with better ones and bandages them over, taking a quick look at the rest him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buggy is just as covered in bruises and cuts as Shanks, but somehow he's even thinner, and there's a bad wound on his shoulder that is starting to become infected despite the boys’ obvious efforts to keep it clean. A quick touch on his forehead confirms that he's running a fever already.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah, no. These kids aren’t going </span>
  <em>
    <span>anywhere.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except to the bathroom and then to bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, I think that's the best I can do for now. Keep that hand out of the water for now, and try to keep the bandage on your shoulder dry - it's supposedly waterproof, but there's no need to push it. Bathroom's upstairs, second door to the right. I'll prepare the guest room while you get ready, and I'll leave painkillers and something for the fever on the bedside table if you want to take them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because there's no way they'll let each other out of their respective sights, not with how they're clinging to each other. If they've been on their own since Roger's execution, with only each other to rely on, it's no wonder that they won't allow themselves to be separated, especially when they're in an unfamiliar place with someone they don't know if they can trust.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hence why she's leaving the choice of taking painkillers to them. Davy Jones knows she wouldn't feel comfortable being drugged in such a situation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you doing this?” Buggy croaks out, staring at her with a wariness that is warring with bone deep exhaustion.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Because they're Roger's <em>kids</em> and he's not there to protect them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because she's pregnant and wants her child to know their brothers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because they are children and should be protected and prepared to face the world, not thrown at it on their own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because she's always been protective of children and it's gotten even worse now that she's expecting her own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because they look like they had given up on having anyone reach out and help them.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>“Because you are children of the seas and we’re both children of Davy Jones,” she says instead, and it's a non-answer but the only one she is willing to give tonight. “The guest room is down this hall, third door on the left. We'll continue this conversation tomorrow - for now we all need rest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boys still look at her warily, but they follow her instructions nonetheless, so she takes that as a small victory because the other option is to rage and that would be counterproductive right now.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>She barely sleeps that night, brain working a hundred miles an hour trying to figure out what happened to these kids and what she's going to do now. She had been prepared to wait out the rest of her pregnancy here, not wanting to risk her child by sailing out on her own (not that she has a </span>
  <em>
    <span>ship</span>
  </em>
  <span> right now, her little skiff barely counts as one) and hoping that the marines wouldn't come back after the horrors they inflicted on the population before leaving empty handed, but now…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boys had to have reached Baterilla <em>somehow</em>. Which means they probably have a ship, even if only a small one, hidden somewhere nearby.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There's no doctor left on the island, each and every single one of them having either died for trying to stop the marines or left when they realised they wouldn't be able to. She's already been slowing her pregnancy down for a couple of months now and she can </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> the toll it takes on her body. She knows she's going to need a decent doctor soon, if only to make sure she hasn't harmed her baby.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And if the marines were willing to slaughter innocent women and children, there's no telling whether they might order a buster call to finish the job. She can't stay here any longer, and Roger's kids might just have brought her her way out.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>(She misses her crew and her ship and the sea, and she was never made to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone</span>
  </em>
  <span> and she can't stand it for too long.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(She needs to </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave.</span>
  </em>
  <span>)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And she can't leave the boys behind either, not in the state they're in. Much as she wants to bash some heads in, that's not what the boys need right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(She's not what they need either and she knows it.) </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(They need someone bigger than life whose entire being screams 'i will protect you’)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(They need someone whose very presence wraps around theirs, reminding them that they belong, that they are safe, that no one will ever dare to hurt them again)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(They need the closest thing to a father they've ever had, they need the man who scooped them out of the gutter and told them they were his now, they need the man who taught them about the seas and the skies and the ships and the freedom, they need the man who may have dragged them into danger time and time again but was also always there to drag them out of it)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(They need <em>Roger</em>.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <strike>
    <span>(So does she)</span>
  </strike>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But right now she's all they've got and she refuses to let them down because</span>
  <em>
    <span> they are Roger's kids</span>
  </em>
  <span> damn it! And maybe they don't know her and maybe she doesn't know them but they all loved the pirate king and were part of his family, and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> Roger would be devastated and </span>
  <em>
    <span>furious</span>
  </em>
  <span> if she didn't try to help them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Knows he has to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>livid</span>
  </em>
  <span> if he knows what happened to his boys, how his nakama left them to fend for themselves, and wonders how much of a riot Roger has started on the Flying Dutchman)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(He had gone to his death willingly, believing everyone he cared about would be protected: Rouge and their child by his sacrifice and later her crew, his apprentices by his nakama.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Finding out that it wasn't the case?)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Rouge kind of wishes she could watch the fallout of that. From a safe distance.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(She loved the man but moderation had never been his strong suit and, when he was angry, neither had mercy.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(She's seen the aftermath of that country whose army Roger decimated over an insult against one of his men, he would never tell her what, and she's heard all about the Edd War.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(In love she might have been, but she was never blind to his fault.)</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The boys don't sleep well either. Oh, they try to be quiet, but she knows nightmares when she hears them. She doesn't go to them, knows she wouldn't be welcome, but she strains her ear and listens as best as she can.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <strike>
    <span>(She regrets it soon enough, when the broken sobs and pleas for forgiveness reach her.)</span>
  </strike>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(What the hell happened to these kids? What are they doing on Baterilla, digging graves of all things? Rouge needs to know, but she's not sure they'll tell her, and they need to know about her and Roger, about their child, but she's not sure how to tell them.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They're taking turns, she realises, alternating who sleeps and who doesn't, and it makes sense because it's just the two of them and someone need to man the helm and keep watch, and they’re somewhere they don’t know, with someone they don’t trust, so of course one of them will guard the other, but it also means that there's always one of them on hand to wake the other up if the nightmares become too much.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rouge balls her fist in the sheets and it takes all her self control not to scream her rage out.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>She’s the first one up, or at least she thinks so, and the first thing she does is head to the kitchen to make herself the strongest cup of coffee she can. She only allows herself one per day now, won’t risk her child’s health for the sake of her caffeine addiction no matter how tempting it sometimes is, but there’s no way she’ll get through this day without it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s communing with her coffee, inhaling the bitter aroma in hopes that it would wake her up fully, when she feels one of the boys stop in the kitchen’s entrance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Buggy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thinks, his haki much more discreet than Shanks, and her guess is confirmed when she looks away from her mug to check.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s Buggy indeed, still in yesterday’s clothes and bandages, holding onto the doorway with his non-broken hand, fingers nearly digging into the wood with how tight he’s gripping it. His entire body is tense, but it doesn’t look </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it looks like he’s forcing himself to be on guard when his entire being would rather relax, and Rouge is half-way to putting her mug on the table to ask him what’s wrong when the boy inhales sharply and raises his head, looking her straight in the eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why does it feel like </span>
  <em>
    <span>him?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Rouge freezes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s only one person the boy can mean.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Roger hadn’t told her one of his kids had oversensitive Haki! Rouge herself can only feel the barest hints of his presence anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Fuck the kid's got oversensitive Haki and he's been on Baterilla for days now, digging graves of all things and how is he still standing? Rouge's Haki is nowhere near as strong and she's had to lock her Observation down completely unless she's actively looking for something, otherwise the wave of grief and hurt and pain and <em>loss</em> coming from every single soul on this island would overwhelm her, would bring her to her <em>knees</em>.)</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” She tries, despite knowing it won’t fly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The house. It feels like Captain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rouge breathes in. Out. Grabs her mug and downs the rest of her coffee. Turns around and busies herself with making more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It would. He lived here for nearly two years, after all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Twin sharp intakes of breath, behind her, and she hadn’t even noticed Shanks’ arrival, her Haki still locked down underneath her skin, her attention too focused on the blue-haired boy to notice the red-headed one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shanks seems shocked, and Buggy’s eyes are boring a hole in her side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Shanks asks finally, staring at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buggy is staring too, but at her stomach, not at her face, and what little colour had been left in his face is draining away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You and him,” the boy whispers. “It wasn't just a baseless rumor, it was true, and he never told us!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buggy sways against the doorframe, and Shanks is quick to grab him before he can fall. The redhead hasn't quite caught on yet, but Rouge has no doubt that he will soon. Neither of them is dumb, after all, for all that Roger told her that they like playing the fools.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He didn't tell anyone. And neither did I. My crew has no idea where I am right now, or who I was with for the last two years,” Rouge tells them honestly, grabbing two mugs and filling them up. “We were going to, but then the marines started getting a bit too interested in this part of South Blue and Roger's illness took a turn for the worse and he decided to play bait.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She grits her teeth, fingers digging into to the countertop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We didn’t think they would stoop so low as to </span>
  <em>
    <span>slaughter</span>
  </em>
  <span> hundreds of innocent women and children just to get rid of any possible child of Roger.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stops her hand from touching her stomach, not that it matters. If Buggy's haki is sensitive enough to pick up the leftover wisps of Roger’s presence in the house, the ones she can’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> anymore, there's no way the boy missed the life growing inside of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buggy snorts. It comes out surprisingly bitter for a child often compared to a clown.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We could have told you that </span>
  <em>
    <span>months</span>
  </em>
  <span> ago,” he says, and some things slide in place in Rouge's mind. “And Marines are not the only ones willing to do anything to get rid of what they see as Captain's legacies.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She takes a deep breath. Takes the mugs of coffee and puts them on the table, in front of the two chairs. A clear invitation, even as she herself grabs the spare chair from the corner and sits down at the other end.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, they aren’t.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>They eye her warily, but they sit down nonetheless, Buggy still leaning near-imperceptibly on Shanks for support.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Physical or emotional? Rouge’s money is on both. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you… How are you hiding it - them?” Buggy fumbles with his words even as his uninjured hand grip the cup of coffee like a lifeline. “The Marines… we talked with the people here, they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>everywhere</span>
  </em>
  <span>, how did you escape them?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I fled,” Rouge answers, the words still as bitter as they were back then. “I saw the ships arrive and I fled for the woods. I stayed in the mountains for the past two months, and only came back when I was sure they had left.” Her fingers clench. “I only found out how far they had gone when I went down to the village again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She closes her eyes, thinks of the sheer </span>
  <em>
    <span>despair</span>
  </em>
  <span> that had emanated from the little town when she had finally dragged herself there, of her horror when she had realised what had been done in the name of finding her child, of her guilt and grief when she had seen Rose’s body in the hospital turned morgue, when she had seen little Nari with his blue lips and lifeless eyes. The villagers had greeted her with relief of her survival, none of them having any clue that she was the one who had brought this hell down upon them, only knowing her as Old Rote’s grandchild who had gone out to try her luck as a merchant like her parents and had only recently come back, not as Blackjack D. Rouge, Queen of Spades, scourge of the Marines, lover of Gol D. Roger and mother of his future child.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As for how I’m hiding my pregnancy,” She speaks again as she opens her eyes. “Haki. Haki and a shitton of control to try and convince this child to grow slower, slow enough that no one will even </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>they might be the child of the Pirate King since the dates wouldn’t match.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The cup in Shanks’ hands shatters.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Were you ever going to tell us?” He asks, ignoring the boiling liquid and the sharp shards digging into his skin. “Was </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And there’s so much going on behind the impassive faces the boys are failing to maintain, behind those betrayed eyes and shattered voices, and there is </span>
  <em>
    <span>no way</span>
  </em>
  <span> Rouge is going to let that stand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> She slams her palms on the table, making them jump, then stands up and heads for the counter where the first-aid kid is still laying out, making sure to grab a towel and drench it in cold water as she does. “Telling you, telling your crew, telling </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> crew had always been the plan, and Roger had planned on doing so before his death, but then the Marines started heading our way and he decided that he would play bait to give us more chance to avoid their attention and I had to stay out of sight as much as I could.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She takes a deep breath, then hands Shanks the wet towel and starts unpacking the first aid kit looking for aloe vera and bandages.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was going to leave soon after he did, head for my crew and lay low until I gave birth, until my child was strong enough to survive the hell that is waiting for us out there. I was going to call your crew as soon as it was safe to do so, because that’s what Roger wanted and because you’re Roger’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>family</span>
  </em>
  <span> and deserved a chance to meet our child, but then a freak storm </span>
  <em>
    <span>destroyed</span>
  </em>
  <span> my ship, and I couldn’t risk sailing out on the little dinghy all by myself, not when I have my child’s life to think of, and I had no way to contact my crew, to contact </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> because the first thing those assholes marines did when they arrived here was to cut all outgoing communications.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She grabs Shanks’ hands without waiting for his permission, and starts to wipe away the mix of blood and coffee staining them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He was going to tell you,” She repeats, softer this time, not looking at either of their faces. “He wanted our child to meet their brothers, after all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There's another sharp intake of breath, and the hands she is tending to are shaking.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>"I… brothers?" Shanks's voice is barely above a whisper, tentative and heartbroken and half way to a sob.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Roger, you idiot. This is why you needed to use your words, not just assume that people would know how much they meant to you!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rouge takes a deep breath, tries to find the right way to word this, cursing Roger for not telling them himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The two of you were his children in all but blood, in all the ways that matter, and he loved you both, so much," She tells them softly. "Kept bragging about how talented and how smart you were, about the fine men you were growing into."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And fuck, using the past tense when talking about him still feels so very <em>wrong</em>, despite the months that have gone by since his execution. There are days she still can't believe that he's really gone, days where she turns in her bed, reaches an arm out and expects to find him right there next to her, days where she can almost convince herself that he's just out on an errand, that he just went to meet up with his crew and will be back soon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he <em>isn't</em>, and he <em>won't</em>, and that <em>hurts so fucking much.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Then why did he </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" There's a loud noise as a chair clatters to the floor, thrown there when Buggy jumped to his feet, an arm angrily wiping his face of the bitter, bitter tears running down his cheeks. "If he loved us so much, why didn't he </span>
  <em>
    <span>stay?"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Because he couldn't bear the thought of you seeing him die," Rouge says, and it takes a conscious effort to keep herself from snapping. They are kids, kids who are hurting and grieving and who feel like their father abandoned them. They don't know the whole story, don't know how much Roger's illness took out of him. "He didn't want you to see him as he was at the end - weak and dying and </span>
  <em>
    <span>unable to protect you</span>
  </em>
  <span> if anything had happened! Do you think he would have given himself up to the marines if he had been in any state to fight them off? Of course not! This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gol D. Roger</span>
  </em>
  <span> we're talking about!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he hadn't been. By the end of their first year together, Roger had lost most of his weight, and muscle mass as well. By the time they heard the marines were getting suspicious, Roger had been skin and bones, held together by sheer will, haki and stubbornness. The only reason he had looked half as good as he had on his execution day had been his haki and charisma, making people see him as he had been in his prime, not as the sick and dying man he had been.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And us seeing him on the scaffold was so much better?" Buggy spits. "Seeing him </span>
  <em>
    <span>die</span>
  </em>
  <span>, right in front of our eyes, seeing his head hit the ground without being able to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> because he wouldn't fucking let us </span>
  <em>
    <span>try</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!"</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Fuck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course they had gone to Loguetown, of course they had been there. What in Davy Jones' name had Silvers been </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinking</span>
  </em>
  <span>, letting the kids watch this?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No," she admits, "but watching him die, little by little, for weeks and months? That wasn't something he wanted to inflict upon you. He didn't want you to remember him like that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Is that why he didn't give us a chance to say goodbye?" Shanks asks, and his voice is </span>
  <em>
    <span>breaking</span>
  </em>
  <span>. "Is that why he visited Rayleigh-san alone, why he left before we came back from Water Seven?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He didn't…" Rouge has to let go of Shanks' hands lest she breaks his fingers, instead opting to breathe in and out deeply, once, twice, thrice, until she feels like she can actually talk instead of screaming incoherently. "Of fucking course he didn't. He always had to be a </span>
  <em>
    <span>coward </span>
  </em>
  <span>when it comes to feelings, didn't he?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kids bristle at the insult, instinctively, but she shoots them a glare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"For all that he was such an emotional person, Roger was </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span> at actually expressing himself like a normal person. Moron kept forgetting that just because he could feel what others are feeling thanks to his haki doesn't mean that others can do the same for him because his haki was always such a freaking </span>
  <em>
    <span>mess</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She points at Buggy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't fall into that trap, brat. Just because you've got oversensitive haki doesn't mean you can stop communicating. Words are important. Use them, for Davy Jones' sake!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kid take a step back, confused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oversensitive haki?" Shanks is the one who asks, looking from her to Buggy and back to her, obviously pushing back his grief and jumping on the change of subject like a lifeline.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh for fuck's sake! <em>Seriously?</em>  Was every single adult on the Oro Jackson, Roger included, a complete <em>moron</em>?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You didn't know?! I wondered why Roger never told me, but are you telling me that no one on your ship ever noticed that your friend here has over developed observation haki? Kid, I don't even feel Roger's presence here anymore, haven't felt it in </span>
  <em>
    <span>weeks</span>
  </em>
  <span>! I bet your range is measured in </span>
  <em>
    <span>kilometres</span>
  </em>
  <span>, too, not just meters like the rest of us. For fuck's sake, Roger had it too, how in the seven seas did he not notice this?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then she freezes, because…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Kid," she starts, slowly. "When exactly did you awaken your observation haki?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because given all the fucked up shit the Roger Kaizoku had gotten into in the past decade alone…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We were eight." Buggy told her shortly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eight. That means </span>
  <em>
    <span>six years ago</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kid with oversensitive haki had been in the middle of the worst fights of the decade, had been there for Edd War, for that island where Roger had slaughtered a fucking army, for all the fights on the way to Raftel, for </span>
  <em>
    <span>Roger's fucking execution</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How the hell was he still sane? </span>
  <em>
    <span>How?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Davy Jones be damned, I'm going to wring their necks," Rouge mutters angrily, grabbing the aloe Vera again. "Unobservant assholes, how in Davy Jones' name did either of you survive this long?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kids bristle again, but this time it's less… instinctive, more rote, as if they're getting angry on their crew's behalf out of habit more than true belief.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which, again, is painting a pretty bleak picture of what happened after Roger's death.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She's not about to call up Davy Jones and make a claim right now, but damned if she's not planning on hunting those assholes down and giving them a thorough ass-kicking once she's had her baby.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>"Alright," she says, bandaging Shanks' hands carefully. "Alright. I need you to tell me everything that happened in the past two years, because from what I can gather Roger got a lot of shit wrong when he predicted what would happen with his crew once he was gone - then again, if the moron had bothered to actually</span>
  <em>
    <span> talk </span>
  </em>
  <span>with you guys, we might not be here right now, but if wishes were fishes and all that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They look at each other, hesitantly, warily, and Rouge gives them this, gives them the time to think it over, to decide if they can trust her, if her newly revealed status as Gol D. Roger's lover and the mother of his future child will be enough to offset the fact that they don't know her beyond the few times their crews clashed against each other in semi serious fights, the fact that what seems like every single adult in their life has let them down so far, the fact that they've obviously been hunted down by Roger's enemies on both sides of the law.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, after an eternity in a glance, Shanks is the one to speak up, Buggy wordlessly picking up his chair and sitting down again, tension still clear in his frame.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I… after Captain left, the crew stayed together. Captain had said that he would be back in two years, so we were waiting for him, I guess. We set up a base camp in Sabaody, and went off every now and then to resupply on either side of the Red Line. I… sometimes the others took the Oro Jackson and went on raids, but they didn't always take us with them. They would leave us at this bar Ray-san likes most of the time, with Shakky-san, you know, from the Smuggler pirates?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Black Web Shakky, the information specialist? Leaving the kids with her might have been the first sensible thing the Rogers had done, for all that it was obvious that the kids hadn't taken well to being left behind while the others got their pirating urges out of their system, probably by provoking the local marine bases.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then again, leaving two teenagers alone in the hub of the slave trade was not exactly their smartest decision ever either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had expected better of them, and so had Roger. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, I know of her," she replies nonetheless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So that's what we did, for those two years," Shanks goes on. "We kept an ear out for any rumours about where Captain might have gone, and Buggy and I continued to train, and… that was it, basically. There were a few close calls, where we had to leave Sabaody for a while because the marines were getting close to finding us, but other than that… that was it, for two years. Then, just as the two years were coming to an end, Rush insisted that we take the Oro to Water Seven to have Tom take a look at her, make sure she would be ready when Captain came back. Rayleigh-san stayed behind in case Captain came back earlier than expected."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Which he did," Buggy spits, the hurt still clear on his face despite his best effort at hiding it. "And then he left again, days before we came back. By the time we got to Sabaody, the papers were already announcing his capture. We barely managed to make it to Loguetown in time - and Rayleigh-san didn't even come with us to Loguetown, he stayed on the ship on a small island nearby!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"After…" Shanks gulps. "After Captain's… execution… we all met up on that island. I… we… we were not in a good state, to say the least. We all set off together and then…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And then Rayleigh-san starts asking about the drop off order and the others start telling him where they want to be dropped off and we're just standing there trying to understand what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> is going on and by the time we manage to wrap our heads around what is happening, Roban’s gone and so are Elena and Marian and Seagull and Gulliver and Scopper." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No one asked us to go with them," Buggy takes over, standing up again and pacing agitatedly in Rouge's small kitchen. "Rayleigh kept asking us where we wanted to go and when we asked why we had to leave he just said that it was for the best and then he and Rush and Crocus dumped us on some shithole in </span>
  <em>
    <span>the fucking New World</span>
  </em>
  <span>, without so much as leaving us so much as a denden number! They... they just..."</span>
</p>
<p>His voice croaks.</p>
<p>"They just <em>left."</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*hides under a table*</p>
<p>Sorry not sorry for the feels! Hope you liked it! Let me know what you thought in the comments!</p>
<p>You can also come and yell at me for making you cry on discord! https :// discord .gg /xre VUA2 (just take out the spaces)</p>
<p>Feel free to join it if you want to yell at me for giving you feels about Buggy the Clown/feels in general, throw headcanons around, discuss latest chapters, give me new plotbunnies (you know who you are), share your own writing or favourite fics/art, or just want a place to virtually hang out at during these trying times: you're all welcome aboard !</p>
<p>ALSO! Thanks to the amazing Barid, the main fic now has a TV Tropes Page! Here's the (spaced) link if you want to check it out, and feel free to add to it!</p>
<p>tvtropes. org/ pmwiki/ pmwiki.php/ Fanfic/ WatashitachiwaRogerkaizokudesuwestillstandproud</p></blockquote></div></div>
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